I’ve been selling gourmet chocolate treats at our public market shop for more than three years without incident when I encounter a less-than-talented scammer determined to save money by less-than-honest means.

Scammer: “What’s the best deal?”

Me: “This bag of assorted chocolates at $14 each.”

With his right hand, he pulls a $20 bill from his wallet.

Scammer: “Can I get two bags for $20?”

Woah! That’s an $8 savings on an already discounted product. We’re not authorized to offer that kind of savings, however.

Me: “Two would be $28, but there’s a $2 discount for buying two together, a total of $26.”

The scammer adds a five to go along with his twenty, now holding $25 in his right hand.

Scammer: “That’s all I’ve got.”

Now he’s only a dollar short, but my employer allows no price negotiations, so I’m about to decline his offer… and then I see that the wallet in his left hand clearly has a $100 bill sticking out. Busted!

Me: *Brightly* “Good news, sir! I can make change for a $100!”

He somehow located another five, and I gave him his two bags of chocolates and $4 in change.

I filled his order for the proper amount and did not need to publicly accuse him of trying a feeble scam. That’s a win-win in my book!

My parents own a vegetable farm. I help harvest and I go to the produce market to sell. A customer is browsing our vegetables, smoking a cigarette as we’re outside.

Customer: “Are these all organic?”

Me: “Yes, totally organic.”

Customer: *Dragging on their cigarette* “I only eat organic stuff ’cause pesticides are bad for you.”

Me: “We don’t use pesticides, just regular fertilizer only.”

Customer: *Stubbing out the cigarette on the ground and getting out a new one* “Hmm, are you sure? Some fertilizers have those chemicals in them.”

Me: “Just good old organic fertilizer.”

Customer: *Lighting new cigarette* “Hmm, I don’t know. These vegetables don’t look all that organic.”

Me: “I can guarantee that these vegetables are about as organic as it’s possible to get.”

Customer: *Dragging a third of the cigarette in a single breath* “Hmm, I’ll think about it. Just worried about all those chemicals.”

They wandered off to another part of the market and I could finally breathe again.

I help organize a market for local artisans. Our rules for vendors are laid out clearly on our website, and vendors are required to check off on having read them as part of the application process.

After a number of incidents that boil down to “vendor wasn’t aware of the rules,” I add a pop-up to the vendor application page on our site. In big bold words, it tells vendors that they need to read the rules — with a link — and check off that they have done so to close the pop-up.

We get an email titled, “The link won’t work.”

Vendor: “Every time I go to the Apply To Be a Vendor page, there’s a pop-up that says ‘Please Read Before You Apply.’”

Market Manager: “Hi, [Vendor]. That is an intentional pop-up that helps us ensure vendors have read through the rules before applying. If you keep reading, the pop-up will list instructions that tell you how to close it.”

The vendor decided that it would be easier to email us rather than read the twenty words in the pop-up. You can give people information, but you can’t make them read it!

I work at a small booth in a tourist area. The booth is part of a larger marketplace that opens at 10:00 am. This particular morning, the bus system was running late, so I didn’t show up to open until 10:15. Additionally, my boss wanted me to do last night’s register report. Before we open, all of our merchandise is covered by bedsheets and the lights are all off. I kept it this way while I did the report so no one would think that we were open yet, as customers were around looking at other booths.

As I was sitting there, a man and his daughter walked up and started picking up the bedsheets themselves to look at our stuff. I didn’t notice until they walked up to the register, which was very obviously off and still covered with a bedsheet, as well.

The guy tried to hand me what they wanted to buy without even acknowledging me. I started to explain that we were not open yet, and before I could ask him to give me a few minutes, he threw the merch down on the bedsheet and stomped off.

The part that really upsets me is that he emailed the company and tried to say that I was an hour late — my timestamp says otherwise — and refused him service. Thankfully, my boss was understanding.

I regularly sell my handmade crafts at a monthly stall. I’ve taken a deal out with the organisers that, for free advertising online, I will run a coupon-type discount. If customers show me the page, they get a pound off any of the small bookmarks or coasters I make.

I’m expecting a pretty good month, so I bring a friend along to help.

Things go pretty well, and we start to get more and more people using the coupon. All is going okay until this woman walks up; she sneers at everything and asks for discounts before buying one of the biggest items.

Friend: “That will be [amount].”

Customer: “I think you will find I have a coupon.”

She flashes her phone around.

Friend: “Sorry, but that’s only for the bookmarks.”

Customer: “It doesn’t say that! You’re trying to rob me!”

Friend: “It really does, right on the page you have open there.”

Customer: “That’s not good enough! I want to see your manager!”

Friend: “Well, I don’t have a manager, really, but—”

Me: “That’s okay, I’ll take over. I’m the owner, I guess.”

Customer: “I have a discount that your employee refuses to take.”

Me: “Let me see. Yes, that applies to bookmarks normally, but I can make an exception.”

Customer: “Finally, some sense.”

Me: “Oh, and because of your purchase, I can offer one of our bookmarks for 50p.”

Customer: “Oh, yes, I will take one.”

She walked off happy about getting her own way, completely unaware that she had just gotten the coupon as I intended.

Related:
The Couponator 32: Attack Of The Rulebreaker
The Couponator 31: Saved By The Next Generation
The Couponator 30: Managerial Override
The Couponator 29: A Cents-less Tragedy
The Couponator 28: Panic Attack!